Gentlemen Prefer Blonds
by Liam Needsom
Summary: Lee is just a little bit jealous when Amanda gets assigned to tail someone. But who exactly is he jealous of?
1. Gentlemen Prefer Blonds

**Gentlemen Prefer Blonds**

Author's Note: Here Be Dragons.

This story contains elements some of you may be uncomfortable with. I ask only that you read it with an open mind and heart. This is not intended to be shocking, just a view of events seen from a slightly different angle that may change your perception of how certain things happened.

All characters remain the property of their original creators. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

Amanda took the file from Billy with only the slightest of guilty looks at Lee. She had promised to help him with sorting out his expenses before the Oversight Committee got hold of them, but she knew he'd understand that any assignment handed to her by Billy was going to take precedence.

"Now it's light surveillance, hands-off stuff," Billy was saying as she flipped it open.

"Oh wow!"she couldn't help herself saying as it fell open to the photo of a very handsome man. She felt Lee go on alert beside her and he leaned over to get his own look at the photo, a man named Alan Chamberlain according to the paperwork opposite.

"Oh wow," he repeated, although in a slightly flatter tone as he took in how drop-dead gorgeous the man was, a tone that Francine was quick to pick up on, even if she completely misunderstood it.

"Jealous, Scarecrow?" She delivered the jibe with a certain amount of malicious glee, eager to see what he'd say with Amanda standing right there.

Lee knew exactly what she was up to, and wondered why she still felt the need to explain away Amanda's place as his partner as some kind of romantic attachment after all the times Amanda had proven herself. He was annoyed, however, that his helping hand with the paperwork had just been snatched out from under him, and if he were honest with himself, he was also annoyed about that approving noise Amanda had just made, so he did what he usually tried to avoid doing and took her up on the challenge.

"Now why would I be jealous, Francine?" he asked in dulcet tones that should have tipped her off.

"That Amanda gets to spend all day trailing such a sublime specimen of masculinity, of course," she cooed.

Lee paused and pretended to study the folder that Amanda was still holding open before glancing back up coolly and saying, "Not really. I prefer my boyfriends more like Robert Redford."

He said it with such deadpan delivery that Francine was taken aback, suddenly uncertain whether he meant it or not. Something about the stifled snort from Amanda left her even more off-balance, wondering if there was a joke she wasn't getting, not for the first time. Lee continued to stare at her expressionlessly, daring her to respond, until finally, to his great satisfaction, she blinked, but turned her guns back on Amanda.

"Ah, you'd better wear your little tennis shoes, Dear, because Chamberlain travels in a little faster circles than you're used to."

Amanda was, as usual, completely unfazed by the verbal attack and simply turned to Lee with a smile. "Maybe we should trade jobs. I'm sure I can explain your paperwork to the committee much better than you can and, type or not, you'd probably have more fun following this Chamberlain guy around."

"Oh no, you take this one. I'll wait for the next pretty blond."

Billy was quick to see the conspiratorial smile they exchanged over this series of quips, although Francine was still just watching them like a ping-pong match where she didn't understand the rules. He hid his own grin as he pretended to lecture Lee, "You're not getting out of this one anyway, Scarecrow. Congresswoman Faber is particularly interested in meeting you to discuss your expense claims this year."

Lee grimaced, while Francine rocked with laughter and Amanda gave him a sympathetic look. "Is she that bad?" she asked, sincerely worried for him.

"She's a pain in the ass is what she is," Lee answered. "She's like an old-timey school marm, all about the rules on the surface, but digging for the salacious details while pretending to be shocked. I guarantee you she'll want to know all about the Flying Federovas."

Amanda scrunched up her nose to think about that one. Lee could barely contain a fond smile at the sight – she had no idea how much like a small fluffy kitten she looked like when she did that.

"The Flying Federovas? The underwear ones, right?" She waited for Lee to nod then went burst out laughing and went on. "Is it in the file that the twins were 12 years old and the underwear had Barbie on them?" She turned to look at Billy and Francine who were watching the entire conversation open-mouthed. "You remember – Lee was tracking that Czechoslovakian agent, Bartos, who was hiding out undercover in the Moscow Circus when it came to town last year and he convinced those child acrobats to shimmy up the drainpipe to Bartos' room and plant a bug for him. He had to bribe them with Hershey bars and pink underwear."

"And blue jeans for their mother," added Lee.

"Is that all you gave the mother?" asked Francine, unable to resist re-entering the conversation.

"That's all she wanted. Now the father, on the other hand…" Lee trailed off, still itching to wipe that look off Francine's face once and for all.

"He was blond, wasn't he?" asked Amanda helpfully.

"He was, a real Slavic blond and built like Johnny Weissmuller," Lee let his voice drop expressively, and pretended to stare into space, all the while watching Francine out of the corner of his eye as she watched the conversation turn on her again.

"Well, good luck with that then. I better get going," said Amanda hurriedly, the laughter she was trying to contain only noticeable to Lee, attuned as he was to every nuance of her voice. "I'll report back later, Mr. Melrose. See you later, Francine!" She almost ran out of the office, desperate to get away before Francine got more suspicious.

Francine watched her leave, then turned to look speculatively at Lee who had his innocent expression back on, then at Billy who returned her look with a smile and asked, "Shouldn't you be getting your expense report ready as well, Desmond? I'm sure Congresswoman Faber is probably going to want to know why you "needed" that Valentino gown last month, and I certainly don't have a good explanation for it."

He and Lee watched as Francine went pale and bolted from the room, showing the clear signs of someone fearful of losing a beloved expense account. Lee allowed himself a small chuckle at her distress before pushing himself off the wall he was leaning on and heading the door himself.

"I take it from that little exchange that Amanda knows more about you than I gave her credit for," remarked Billy before he could reach the door. He was leaning back in his chair and staring at Lee with interest.

Lee halted mid-step and turned to look at him. "We don't have a whole lot of secrets between us, you know that, Billy."

"It doesn't appear to have affected her friendship with you. That doesn't surprise me but just when did she find out that particular one?" asked Billy.

Lee gave a snort of laughter. "She knew the first week we met apparently."

"Apparently?" Billy was quick to pick up on the qualifier. "You didn't tell her?"

"No, but I found out last spring that she knew all along." Lee paused and then elaborated on that answer. "Well, actually, in her words, she thought I was only gay until Eva came along. Up until then she thought I was just really very good at pretending to be interested in women." He met Billy's look of astonishment with a shrug. "She's pretty remarkable, you know."

"I always knew that but I'm just beginning to appreciate how truly remarkable she is," answered Billy.

Lee thought back to everything he'd learned about Amanda over the last few weeks. For a moment, he wondered if he should tell Billy about what he'd discovered about Munich, but just as quickly dismissed the idea. He owed her his protection from that story getting out. He realized Billy was still looking at him. "I know the feeling, Billy."


	2. Through Yonder Window

He knew this was ridiculous. He couldn't believe he was a full-grown man about to climb a trellis to a girl's window in the middle of the night like some lovestruck teenager. _Not lovestruck_ he corrected himself. He liked Amanda. A lot. She was a very good friend, just like he'd told Congresswoman Faber and he was simply worried about her being caught in the middle of what had turned out to involve known terrorists.

He paused before he began to climb, resting his head against the ivy. Who was he kidding? She was his best friend and he was worried about her obviously, but he could have called her, even risking waking Dotty up. He had to admit it to himself – he wanted to see her, to look her in the eye and make sure she understood why she needed to back away from Alan Chamberlain. Having Franco Necci involved had just put this into a whole new stratosphere of danger and he didn't want her anywhere near it. There'd been something in her expression when she told him about her contact with Chamberlain that unnerved him as well, some spark of interest that he didn't like. She'd agreed he seemed like a dull stick, but the way she talked about the historian when she'd had to explain about the accidental contact that led to their dinner date bothered him; it had some element that made him think Amanda might actually be attracted to Chamberlain the way...well, the way _he_ was attracted to Chamberlain. Despite his cracks to Francine that morning, his type actually veered more towards dark-eyed brunettes and Chamberlain was certainly that – but so was Amanda. He pulled himself further up the trellis, groaning with exasperation – even he could figure out the problem with this scenario without any serious introspection. _Just. A. Friend_. He repeated the words like a mantra with every step up his makeshift ladder.

He reached her window and began tapping on the glass, quietly at first, but then more forcefully when there wasn't a response. Finally he could hear faint sounds inside and called her name. He was just about to call again when he heard her answer him, her confusion about the source of his voice evident even though it was muffled by the glass.

"It's me! Let me in!" he said more loudly, suddenly worried that the trellis was going to give way under his weight. It had seemed sturdy when he was climbing it, but now, swaying back and forth trying to tap on the window, he wasn't so sure. The blind suddenly went up and there was Amanda peering him at blearily before finally opening the window.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, but before he could answer she realized how precarious his grip was and added "Come in" and helping him climb in awkwardly. He almost fell into the room and then, suddenly embarrassingly aware of where he was, he moved forward too quickly and stubbed his toe on something in the dark, desperately trying to muffle the swear word he wanted to utter.

He took a deep breath to calm himself, although it had the opposite effect as he inhaled the scent he knew so well after two years but which seemed so much more intimate in this setting. It was the scent of her perfume, and her shampoo, and her laundry detergent, and a million other domestic things, but mostly it was the scent of _her_ , the smell of a warm bed, a bed she'd just climbed out of and he was momentarily struck silent as his mind raced to a place he normally wouldn't let it go when he thought about his partner.

"Are you alright?" she asked – _of course_ she asked, worrying about him even to the point of forgetting that it might wake her mother to hear voices.

"I'm fine," he managed to get out and took another deep breath to try and calm his suddenly racing heart. "I'm sorry to barge in, but it's an emergency."

"No problem," she said agreeably as she headed sleepily back towards the bed as if having a man climb through the window in the middle of the night was a regular occurrence.

She climbed back in the bed and turned to him and for the briefest of milliseconds, he found himself leaning in as if following her under the covers would be the most natural thing in the world. He caught himself just in time and putting on a professional tone to cover his confusion, he asked how her evening with Chamberlain had gone, realizing too late that he was speaking too loudly. He winced as she shushed him furiously, creeping to the door to close it, then turning on the bedside light and crawling back under the covers for warmth.

"It was fine, textbook – he just talked about his work and stuff." She was almost yawning and paused to run her hands over her face and through her hair, trying to wake herself up before looking up at him with a tired grin. He felt the same jolt of amusement and attraction he'd had earlier in the day – she looked more like a kitten than ever with her ruffled hair and her wide eyes.

"Anything unusual happen?" He didn't know what he expected her to answer; she had no way of knowing the priest she'd photographed earlier was a renowned European terrorist and he knew that if something had bothered her, she'd have called him already.

She drummed her fingers against her lips thoughtfully before finally answering, "No, not really." There was something familiar about the gesture that set his nerves tingling but he couldn't place it. He realized she was staring up at him expectantly, a look of comfortable confidence that he was there for a good reason.

"Well, you can quit tailing him now – have nothing more to do with him."

Oh hell, now she was pissed– he could swear if she had fur, it would be standing on end, but her indignant expression said it all. "Now wait a minute! I'm doing a good job!"

"You are," he reassured her, "But I need to show you something." He moved to sit on the bed, all too aware of the way she casually made room for him, then leaned in to look at the photo he was holding. As he explained about Necci, he could hear her swift intake of breath and then – no surprise here – she rushed to defend Chamberlain.

"Alan's just sitting there!" she said indignantly, and right away he knew he was in trouble because she'd used Chamberlain's first name. He sighed internally and girded himself for the argument he knew was coming. She was already emotionally involved in exactly the same way she'd been with Elizabeth Sullivan just weeks before – he could hear it in her voice and rushed without thinking into his usual spiel.

"These are terrorists and he may be involved. We'll take over from here. It's too dangerous for you." The minute the words left his mouth, he knew it had been the wrong thing to say. It truly was the Sullivan case all over again.

"That's what always happens! I start something and you just take over!" She was just as mad this time but without the blinding emotion of having just found Leslie in his apartment. She was almost angry enough that she had forgotten to keep her voice down as he began babbling excuses, a tiny bubble of panic growing because she was so determined to stay on the case. "It's textbook!" she finished triumphantly after she'd knocked his reasons down one by one and much as it pained him, he knew she was right. They didn't have enough to go on yet and she was the only one with access to the key player.

"I promise I'll get right in the car and drive away," she was saying now and even though he _knew_ that would be the _last_ thing she'd do if Chamberlain was really in trouble, somehow he found himself agreeing because at least he and Francine would be there too and surely it couldn't go too wrong in a public place, could it? He could barely contain the groan as his mind went to all the possible ways it could go wrong – but he still couldn't deny he needed her – Chamberlain wasn't going to be fooled by Francine in a dark wig the way the guys at Trans-Oceanic might have been.

"Deal" he said finally, holding out his hand without thinking.

"Deal" agreed Amanda, gripping it with a grin and a wriggle of excitement that she'd convinced him.

For a split second, everything was right in his world. He had a way in with a case that has suddenly blown up out of nowhere and Amanda was happy because he was letting her stay on the case– and then their eyes had met and for some inexplicable reason, that world had tilted on its axis and he gripped her hand more tightly, like a drowning man. Her pupils had widened, making her eyes impossibly darker and her breath had hitched in tandem with his own.

 _You're a special man._ That's what she'd said the last time she'd taken his hand like this. It almost made him laugh. She thought _he_ was special, but never considered it odd that she was a housewife whose instinct was to rush in where angels feared to tread. How had he found this impossibly brave woman, this smart, loyal, beautiful woman in a crowd of strangers?

He had no idea what of those thoughts had gone across his face, but suddenly her head had dropped and the blush rose in her face. Not just in her face, he realized, as his eyes followed the direction of her gaze and he could see that flush was all over her body.

He could see the evidence, but didn't believe it. He was used to watching women respond physically to him, but Amanda didn't think of him that way, did she? He knew she'd reacted when they'd had to kiss for covers, but he'd always just put that down to her inexperience with covers.

She was pulling the neckline of her nightgown closed, trying to cover that telltale flush and suddenly with horrible clarity, the memory of that gesture with her fingers earlier came back to him. It had eluded him for a moment because it hadn't been her own lips she'd touched last time, but his. It played out in slow motion in his head, the ceremony in San Angelo that had ended in a kiss and Amanda flushing _exactly_ this way and then reaching up to run a finger lightly over his mouth as if she couldn't help herself. With a sinking heart he realized there'd been more to the date with Chamberlain than she'd let on, that the color in her cheeks wasn't for him and before he could process the hurt in that thought, somehow, stupidly, before he could stop himself, he heard himself asking in a tone that he'd meant to be jokey but was too harsh, "What's the matter? Did Chamberlain give you a hickey or something?"

She sat bolt upright then and lost all the color of the moment before as she backed up against the headboard. There was sheer panic in her eyes and she tried to yank her hand away but he tightened his grip, horrified he'd triggered that flight response. She resisted for a moment, but then, even worse, became motionless, watching him warily from under her lashes and he realized she was waiting for the Leslie ax to fall again. He mentally cursed the day he'd ever met the translator … and the day Amanda had.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I know you wouldn't…" and then stopped dead, unable to think of a good way to finish that sentence.

"No, I wouldn't," she whispered, staring down at her hand in his.

There was silence for a moment, as he tried to stop her trembling by running his thumb along her knuckles. When her breathing calmed, he risked speaking again. "Well I guess that's it until breakfast. I should go." When she tightened her grip in turn, he found himself confused again at the mixed messages she was sending. He pulled his hand away slowly, not wanting to let go, but aware that this moment was threatening to tip into some level of intimacy he couldn't allow himself with Amanda.

"You be careful," he found himself saying.

"Yeah," she sighed, and then added, "You be careful going down that trellis."

There was something in the way she said it, the slightest undertone of mischief, that broke the tension and he found himself grinning at her. "Uh huh – the trellis." He knew that if he were to make one comment about the unsteadiness of the trellis, she'd let him sneak out down the stairs, but instead he let her turn out the light and lead him back to the window.

"There has got to be a better way," he heard her mutter as the window shut behind him and wondered what she'd meant by it.

* * *

He was leaning on the Corvette waiting for Amanda to join him after she said good-bye to Alan, or at least he hoped she was saying good-bye. _And good riddance_. He purposely stood in a position that made it appear he wasn't watching, but that let him keep an eye on them in his peripheral vision. Francine was standing nearby with Chamberlain's sister, Sophia, chattering away in Italian animatedly. Lee stared studiously at his feet when he realized Amanda was leaning into a clinch with the man she'd just saved and looked up in time to see Francine staring at the pair speculatively, then over at him. He stared back until she finally broke it off to turn and answer a question from Sophia. He looked back at the ground until he felt Chamberlain walk past him on his way to join his sister, then back up as Amanda slowly approached, her own eyes still fixed on Chamberlain's back. As was often the case with his partner these days, he couldn't quite decipher what she was feeling. These moments always bothered him because she was normally so open that he'd learned to pay attention when she wasn't.

"You okay?" he studied her expression, still unable to determine how upset she was. "You should be happy – you were right about him being innocent in all of this. Mostly, anyway."

"Yeah," she sighed. "It's just sort of disappointing, you know? That it ended like that."

"Because he's going back to Italy?"

"Oh no, not that." She met his startled look and gave a sad smile. "Oh, he was nice enough and it was kind of fun to step out into that zone again. Sort of like when I was Victoria Greenwich, remember?"

He nodded, really not sure now what she was sad about.

"And it wasn't like I was ever going to have a real romantic future with him, was it? He thought I was a dental hygienist for Illinois and even if he kept thinking that forever, that's not the woman he's taking back to live the high life in Rome, is it?"

"Well, you never know, he might come back for a visit. He knows who you are for real now and he didn't seem angry about it, quite the opposite. He might want to see you again." He searched her face, trying to read her feelings. "Who knows? We could go on a double date or something."

He'd wanted to see if he could get her to smile, but Amanda just gave him a wide-eyed look, then ducked her head and turned to stare straight ahead. It only took a few seconds for him to realize that she was biting her lip trying not to laugh. She snuck another look at him and turned away, now shaking with silent laughter.

"What?" He was already starting to laugh too, set off by her obvious inability to stop.

She shook her head and then let out one of those deep sexy chuckles that he'd grown so fond of.

"What?" he asked again. "You can't not tell me now."

Amanda took a deep breath and finally managed to control herself long enough to ask, "When you say double date, do you mean you're bringing someone or are we both dating Alan?"

"Amanda!" It was no use, he had to bend over and put his hands on his knees from laughing so hard.

"Oh that's right," she was still giggling. "I forgot, you prefer blonds."

"Not really," he answered unthinkingly. "That's just what I told Francine."

Amanda was still smiling, as she nodded her head towards Francine's car pulling away. "Well, I think Alan does – he checked her out pretty thoroughly just now."

Lee felt his anger rising on her behalf but tried to keep his voice light. "Well, that's just a reflex with most guys– I'm sure it didn't mean anything."

She gave him an inscrutable look, and nodded slightly. "Probably not. No more than dinner did last night. He seemed like a guy who doesn't much like having roots – I think he prefers to be alone in Italy where he can come off being a bit mysterious and foreign. I think he liked it better when I was the naïve tourist from a small town."

"But you'll miss him," he replied, searching her face.

"I'll miss the _idea_ of him, but honestly, Lee, I just can't understand how he could be wining and dining me last night when he knew his sister was in the hands of those creeps. Who does that?" She had turned to face him full-on now, hands outstretched to emphasize her disbelief. Her voice rose as she went on. "I mean, he seemed distracted last night, but he _knew_ she was being held by those guys and he _still_ managed to make small talk all evening and lay on the charm and kiss me good night like that as if nothing was wrong." She stopped abruptly and blushed, realizing she'd said too much.

Lee immediately put on his agent face as if he hadn't understood that last part but when she blushed harder, he realized she knew him too well to be fooled by that.

"I mean, you couldn't do that, could you?" she asked uncertainly. "If it wasn't for a cover, I mean – you wouldn't be out with one of your girls if someone you loved... would you?"

"No! Of course I wouldn't." Lee seized her hand to give it a squeeze. He could tell it was getting to her the more she dwelled on it. "But I can't fault him on his choice of beautiful distractions." When she raised her brows at that, he added, in a teasing tone, "Unless he'd chosen me instead."

Amanda gave a choke of laughter. "Of course. Or both of us."

"He couldn't handle the combination of both of us at once – we'd knock his socks off." He continued to hold her hand as they started to walk back down the street to where she'd parked her station wagon outside the hotel.

"Yeah, we're a good team, aren't we?" She was toying with her necklace the way she always did when she wasn't certain about something.

"The best," he confirmed and he knew from the way her fingers squeezed his that she'd needed to hear it.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, Amanda wrapped in her own thoughts while Lee tried not to think about how relieved he was that Alan Chamberlain would be out of the country soon. He knew enough to know that Amanda's disappointment was a direct reflection of how much she'd _liked_ the guy. He wondered idly if maybe, if she were footloose and fancy free and didn't have Jamie and Phillip, if she'd ever consider a life with a guy like that? His life must seem so appealing with the travel and the arts and the parties. _And the terrorist kidnappers_ _,_ he found himself adding to the list.

He snorted out loud at the realization that he already provided Amanda with all those things and then some. Amanda looked up at him inquiringly, smile already on her lips as she waited for him to share.

He scrambled to cover his thoughts. "I was just thinking how mad Francine's going to be when she reads your report and finds out you got to kiss that 'sublime specimen of masculinity,'" he said glibly and watched her eyes crinkle up in amusement at the thought.

As they reached her car, he glanced up at the poster in the bus stop nearby, advertising the Verdi Festival at the Kennedy Center next week and came to an instant decision. If Amanda didn't get to go to Italy, a little bit of Italy could come to her; maybe dinner at that new place, Emilio's before the opera. _Yes_ he thought, _she deserves that. That's what friends are for_.


End file.
